


a quinn by any other name

by mostlyunstablefangirl



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24747478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlyunstablefangirl/pseuds/mostlyunstablefangirl
Summary: “You didn’t know it was me.”“I—Is this a prank?” Rachel asks dazedly. Then it dawns on her. “Oh, God, Santana thought by Quyen, I meant…”A switcheroo that ends up working out remarkably well. Short and dirty.
Relationships: Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray
Comments: 4
Kudos: 157





	a quinn by any other name

**Author's Note:**

> Listen... I wish I could flesh out more of their thought processes and romantic feelings, but this is basically just smut. And it wouldn't logically work out anyway. So, just enjoy this trash fire while I'm not too embarrassed to post it. Real-life friends, please look away.

“This is my best idea to date,” Santana purrs.

Brittany gives her a hurt look. “I thought  _ I _ was your best idea to date.”

“You’re right, baby, it’s my second best.”

Rachel swallows back a mixture of nausea and jealousy at the sentiment.

Santana, Brittany, and Rachel — an unlikely trio — are milling about in the corner at a complete stranger’s house, while hunky hockey players do keg stands near them. Minimal supervision by Will Shuester means that you can have a club fundraiser by way of entry fees to a house party, calling it an “after-school barbecue.”

“So,” Santana drawls, “you hooking up with any of them tonight?”

Rachel’s eyes stray to Finn, who seems to be over his initial hurt from last week. He’s chatting it up with some Carmel cheerleaders, though his eyes snap to hers from time to time. He seems flattered enough to make it through the night.

The breakup had been spurred half by his ineptitude at gift-giving and half by her attraction to...well. It doesn’t really matter at this point, does it? He had been so caught off guard, and she can’t forget the way his eyebrows knitted together in anger.

Santana follows her gaze. “Are you really going to let Finnept decide for you what kind of person you’re going to be? Look around us. Every flavor of person you could possibly hope to get in your granny panties.”

Santana has been hinting to Rachel throughout the school day that she should “get laid” tonight. Rachel’s not a fan of the term by any stretch, but her third wine cooler and the consequent vertigo makes it seem like an appealing idea.

“Um,” Rachel murmurs shyly, “maybe the one called Quyen?” She hones in on one of the hockey players, a shorter Asian boy with mussed hair and defined biceps. She figures her point on waiting is moot, since she’s likely to experiment with her sexuality at NYADA. 

“I gotta say, I’m not particularly surprised, but ew,” Santana says, “why’d you phrase it like that, dweeb?”

“Wh—?”

Santana holds a hand up. “Actually, never mind. Just get your ass up there and I’ll arrange it.” She nods up the stairs towards one of the unused bedrooms.

Rachel stares at the door for a while, then thinks better of it and faces the watercolors on the wall opposite the door. No one wants the awkwardness of that entry, being ogled, so she concentrates on the jagged margin of each brushstroke. She tries to breathe evenly, sitting on her knees towards the edge of the bed.

The door snicks shut behind her, and with a sharp intake of breath, she realizes she’s not alone. There’s a dip in the bed when, presumably, a thigh comes to rest just behind her. Another person crowds up behind her within moments, warmth smarting at her back.

Pressure folds at each side of her waist as a soft grip develops there. A kiss is pressed to the intersection of her neck and shoulder.

She cranes her neck to the side. That’s...quite nice. 

The lips continue up and down the column of her neck, lingering at the base of her earlobe. She gasps and a huff of laughter grazes over the shell of her ear.

An adept hand snakes its way between her thighs, glides over the skin there teasingly. She must rock forward into the touch, assenting, because the fingers — smaller and nimbler than she’d expected — come up to rub tantalizingly over her underwear. Quyen seemed to be a more compact boy than his teammates, so it’s not that surprising. He’s entirely more agile than Finn was, and traipsing over the right areas rather than blindly pawing.

This is sooner than she foresaw, but a dark little sound rises from her, so the digits hook her panties — a thong, Rachel thinks gratefully — to the side and immediately close in on her clit. Rachel whimpers and her body moves of its own volition to follow the pleasure. It doesn’t need to, though, because the hand moving on her is delving between her folds to gather wetness before returning to the bundle of nerves.

She sits up to bear down impatiently against the two fingers, bracing herself with hands on the bed.

The hint is taken and the fingers move to sweetly circle her entrance before slipping inside.

A flash of blonde hair falls into Rachel’s vision as the person behind her moves to capture her lips.

“Quinn?” she yelps, voice an octave higher. She comes immediately, a strangled moan falling into the cheerleader’s mouth.

When she’s done spasming, Quinn has pulled back to stare at her slack-jawed.

“You didn’t know it was me.”

“I—Is this a prank?” Rachel asks dazedly. Then it dawns on her. “Oh, God, Santana thought by Quyen, I meant…”

“But you just  _ came. _ As soon as you saw me.”

Rachel shifts uncomfortably under the gaze, realizing that Quinn is still knuckle-deep inside her. Almost involuntarily, she presses herself forward again, seeking.

Quinn’s pupils are blown, nearly entirely black at this moment. She edges her fingers in further. “So are you just gay, wanting it from a girl? Or was it a little power trip when you realized it was me  _ fucking you _ ?”

Rachel groans at the words, hips desperately seeking another thrust. Quinn complies.

“Or,” Quinn concludes with a rasp, “how long have you had feelings for me?”

Rachel’s lack of answer is an admission in itself.

What she hadn’t told Finn were her bizarre, recurring dreams. Quinn pregnant in a nightgown, kissing her deeply. Quinn above her, below her. Quinn in her mouth, Quinn at her dinner table… And the list goes on, with some stranger than others.

“Oh,” Quinn chuckles, “this is  _ good _ .”

“What about you, huh?” Rachel demands furiously, though all bravado is lost in the movement of her hips, urging Quinn’s digits in and out of her. “What, Santana just told you I wanted it from you, and you were like, ‘Yeah, sure, whatever?’”

“Something like that,” Quinn muses, then pulls her fingers away.

Rachel’s eyes fill with tears. “Wh—?”

“Relax, Rachel,” Quinn says gently, “I just want you from the back.” She urges Rachel up onto her hands and knees. The damp panties are hiked down to Rachel’s thighs and then Quinn works back up to a steady pace.

Rachel can’t help the moan upon her return, extra stimulated by the angle. “Oh my  _ God _ .”

“So how long?” Quinn breathes. “Answer me, or I’ll stop.”

The command brings on a gush of wetness. “Since the moment I saw you,” Rachel pants.

Quinn fucks her harder at that. She makes a little hum — Rachel assumes it’s commentary on the moisture that must be pooling in the notch of her bent wrist by now.

“That’s so good,” Rachel sobs, “Quinn.”

“Say it again,” Quinn demands.

“So good, Quinn.”

“Good girl,” Quinn murmurs in an oddly honeyed voice.

Rachel orgasms a second time, motes swimming in her eyes.

Quinn withdraws her hand, waits patiently for Rachel’s vision to clear. Rachel turns, still short of breath, unsure what to expect from the cheerleader. Does she return the favor? Would Quinn even want that?

Quinn holds out her arms, a bit unsteadily, and Rachel gratefully throws hers around Quinn’s neck. She’s brutally aware of her heartbeat crashing into the other girl’s chest.

“Can I ask…?” Rachel murmurs.

“Santana called me a repressed little schoolboy tonight, along with some other not-nice things as she was trying to convince me to come up here. After everything I’ve done to you, Rachel… Are you surprised?”

“How long have you known?”

“Since my Skanks phase. Smoking and wearing revealing clothing aren’t exactly in line with my parents’ religion, either, so I figured what the hell, you know? What’s one more sin?”

“I have to say, I much prefer this to our old classroom disputes.”

Quinn pulls back ever so slightly to press their mouths together, and Rachel nearly swoons at the ability to kiss her gently. The only thing that could ruin this is…

Puck bursting through the door. Rachel squeaks and ducks behind Quinn, who spreads her arms rather unhelpfully to try and shield her.

“Whoa.” He goggles for a moment, Rachel’s lack of pants and the smell of sex in the room unmistakable.

Quinn snaps her fingers -- blessedly, the ones that  _ weren’t  _ previously inside Rachel. “Puck. Why are you in here?”

“Fuck, right. We gotta go. The parents are home.”

“I have got to say, I am really disappointed in you guys. You couldn’t think of a good, clean fundraiser? Hell, even the kissing booth was somehow allowed last time.” Will raises his eyebrows and throws his arms up in his characteristic manner.

“Mr. Shue,” Puck says solemnly, “I think I speak for everyone when I say that we’ve been punished enough. Having a Carmel hockey player’s 250-pound military dad scream at you isn’t great. All crowding in the back of Kurt’s car. Artie half-naked on one of my thighs and Rachel on the other -- isn’t as hot as it sounds. Quinn threatening to kill me if I looked at Rachel the wrong way. The other lesbians throwing up in the front of the car with the back windows open, so that it could instill some healthy fear in us when Kurt drove more than thirty-five…”

“I’d like to point out that I was not drinking,” Kurt volunteers.

Quinn has the decency to look sheepish, Rachel leaning over to rub her thigh comfortingly.

It’s safe to say that their next fundraiser will take place outside the library, at an elementary school, or in a Denny’s parking lot. Something certifiably PG.


End file.
